Professor Layton and the Fatal Night
by genocidershou
Summary: Professor Layton-Sacrifice REWRITE. When their normal lives have been destroyed, five people must band together and fight for their lives as they battle through the apocalypse. One question remains, however...what caused the end of the world?
1. Day 1- 11:27

_**This is a work of fanfiction; the characters, groups and events portrayed within are in no way intended to resemble those of the real world, only the Layton world.**_

**_A Professor Layton- Sacrifice Rewrite _**

**HI AGAIN ! I've been thinking of rewriting this story for quite a while now. It's no sequel, but I'm going to try and make it just as exciting! Lots of events that happened in Professor Layton- Sacrifice are quite different here, but it's overall still the same story, just a bit longer. I am incredibly proud of Professor Layton- Sacrifice and all the critical praise it received, and all the lovely reviews at the end. I treasured everyone's, especially the recommendations to sell the storyline to a publisher (Woah that made me literally jump up and down, shrieking). So I've sort of based this on that review. As most chapters in Professor Layton- Sacrifice were written in a fanficy sense, I'm going to write this out as if I were writing a real book (Well that's going to fail XD). It's only been 2 months so my writing style will still be pretty much the same. COOKIES. Anyway, I hope you like this new version of Professor Layton- Sacrifice, Professor Layton and the Fatal Night! I don't own Professor Layton. **

Professor Layton and the Fatal Night

1

_DAY 1- 11:27- St Mary's High School_

The crisp leaves helplessly clung to the trees as the wind struggled to pull them away. The leaves that had lost this fight had already fluttered to the ground, creating a bed of auburn against the stone. The sun projected its light and heat onto the world below, despite being blocked at times by monochrome clouds. The temperature proved slightly warmer than usual, but it was nothing that the citizens of London weren't used to. Life in the city continued on as it normally would, what with the pedestrians strolling along to their workplaces and the busses running to carry everyone where they needed to go. The ground rumbled as the underground train coursed through the tunnels, and the thin wires of telephone line bent slightly as a small bird perched onto them to overlook its surroundings below. Everything was completely normal.

Admiring the autumn landscape in a school not too far from the main city sat Luke Triton, head lolling on a cool railing beside him. He licked his finger to flick the page in a swift motion, before returning his lazy gaze to the book in front of him. Luke had a fond love for reading, and since this was a tale about animals, he was sure to enjoy it. Needless to say, Luke was engrossed and soon found the same book loosely gripped in his hand everywhere he went. There weren't many peaceful opportunities such as this one to relax in a plastic chair with a book on the school roof, and Luke made sure he was able to snatch it when it was available.

On that day, it was three minutes before break was finally over and students had to return to lessons, which meant three minutes before Luke had to reluctantly snap the hardback book shut. Aware of this pestering time limit, he was sure to read as fast as he could to reach the end of the chapter. His narrowed black eyes scanned the page before him as quick as he possibly was able. He concentrated on completing this feat so hard that he failed to notice a voice behind him. He only was snapped out of his own world when a surprising force roughly shook his shoulder, almost jolting him out of his chair.

"Dude, what are you doing, we have to get to English!" The voice spoke from behind him in a hurried tone.

"Alistair, I know," Luke huffed, lowered his book and cast his eyes to meet his friend's face. "I'm just in the middle of this… _amazing_ book…"

Before Luke could be sucked into the universe of fiction once more, Alistair pulled him out of his imagination rather coarsely. "No dude, English is on the other side of school! If we don't go now we'll be late!"

Luke rolled his eyes and adjusted his collar with his free hand. His dark blue uniform opposed the deep red anger boiling inside him as he suppressed thousands of ghastly thoughts about the fact that Alistair couldn't even leave him alone for three minutes to finish this book. Sighing exasperatedly, he avoided eye contact and instead glared at the school grounds before him, leaning against the railings and hiding half of his face inside his arms.

"Yeah yeah… I'll catch up to you in two minutes…" Luke's muffled, monotone voice came from his jumper, and Alistair hesitantly left the fourteen-year-old in peace.

Surprisingly however, when Luke was finally granted his wish of being alone, he did not read his so-called enticing book again. He just stared ahead, reminiscing about past events, his bored eyes beginning to see another world.

Luke Triton lived at his London home with his adoptive sister Flora Reinhold and his mentor, Professor Hershel Layton. Seven years ago, they met at his home in Misthallery where they solved the puzzling enigma of the Specter. From that point in time, Professor Layton and his newfound apprentice embarked on many adventures, solving an incredible amount of puzzles along the way to uncover the truth of the mysteries they encountered. On one of those adventures, they met an orphaned Flora Reinhold and the Professor adopted her as his own daughter. Flora Reinhold was a popular sixteen year old brunette who was easy to make friends with. She had a shy, cute nature to her and overall was really quite nice to be around. Many boys often took advantage of her delicate features and her naivety, but the Professor was always there as a fatherly figure to protect her from harm.

Last year, Luke was meant to go to America with his parents to live. However, when Luke expressed a strong, persistent need to see the Professor again a few weeks into their move, Clark and Brenda had no choice but to move back. Clark had found a job in Reading but Luke protested that he wanted to live with the Professor, and so the decision was made. As Layton and Clark were good friends from high school, Clark allowed his son to live with the man he was attached so dearly to, but on the condition that Luke came home to Reading on weekends. Soon after this agreement was made, Luke was admitted to the same school Flora attended, St Mary's High School. He found it easy to fit in and made one close friend, Dave Wilson.

As Luke's thoughts drifted into the air and he became lost in his own mind, frantic dialogue emitting from the front of the school dragged him back to reality. He examined curiously what was happening, at the same time regaining some of his sleepy traits displayed before. The front of the school was very far down from the roof and there was a great distance between its location and the chair Luke slumped against. For this very reason, Luke could not make out any word that they were shouting. Only… one of the teachers was on the ground with three others crowded around him. The teacher on the ground was…crawling? Luke chuckled, mistaking the panicking for cheerful laughing. That was, until he heard it.

_A scream._

He thrust his head to the side to observe the situation further, leaning over the railing to receive a better view. The book to his side was long forgotten already. The screaming teacher writhed about for a moment, before falling to the floor in a pool of his own splattered blood while the other two stepped back slowly in shock and fear. Luke couldn't believe his eyes. He tried blinking, but nothing could whisk this horrifying sight away from in front of him. A teacher…had just…_died!_ Right in front of him! Before Luke could turn away, the dead teacher twitched slightly and rose from his foetal position. Luke's eyes widened as far as they would go as he witnessed another's demise while the last one fled the scene, screaming wildly.

If Luke were down there, he would have done exactly the same. But now was not the time to scream; it was the time to alert the others. The forgotten book lay silently on the plastic table as Luke leapt down the stairs and tore through the school corridor, heading straight for Flora's classroom. If he had to save anyone, it would be his adoptive sister. The two had grown so close over time, even if they did constantly bicker. While Luke ran, thousands of thoughts clouded his mind. What the hell just happened? What would he tell Flora? What was going on here?

As he kicked open the door, the entire class fell silent upon his arrival. Ignoring the irritated shouts from the teacher, Luke pulled Flora out of her seat and attempted to run away with her. Low mutters echoed throughout the room as Flora stared at Luke in surprise and disgust.

"Luke? What's the matter?"

No matter how hard Luke tried to regain his mental stability, he just had had a bothering instinct eating him away from the inside that something extreme was to happen. _Soon._

"Something's happened out there, "He gritted his teeth and extended an arm out beside him for emphasis. "Three of the teachers are _dead _and somehow…they're coming back to life! I don't know how this is possible, but…!"

Flora let out a nervous laugh and desperately ignored the many eyes on her. "Uh, Luke, what are you even talking about? You're kind of… embarrassing me" She hissed under her breath.

"I don't care!" Luke retorted harshly, grabbing her dainty hand and tugging her out of the classroom, despite the teacher's shouts and the wave of confused chatter amongst the students.

"Seriously Luke, if you don't unhand me, I might-!" Flora began to threaten but Luke turned around and resisted the urge to spit in her face.

"Look, I'm only concerned for our safety!" He almost-yelled, baring his teeth in anger.

Calming down and remembering the Professor's teachings of being a gentleman, Luke apologized and mentioned that he will explain everything later. A very perplexed Flora merely played along, just in case this was Luke's idea of a cruel prank. Dead teachers coming back to life…yeah right. Luke was only just messing around and Flora would have the fact that she was too naive and stupid shoved into her face…again. Mentally accepting her defeat, Flora listened half-heartedly to whatever Luke had to say to her while lengthening her dark blue pleated miniskirt.

"Look, I say we escape the school as soon as we can. Maybe, the police can come and lock up the school or something, and then we'd all be safe!" Luke mused.

"Shouldn't we _call _the police first though?" Flora responded.

Luke thought about the option for the moment, his heart racing. "I haven't got my phone with me."

"Well neither have I. I've left it in my coat," The girl sighed. "So what exactly happened, then?"

"I don't know. These teachers died in the front of the school, and then they came back to life and started killing the others. Well, whatever the case is, we're going to need some weapons."

"Weapons?" Flora blinked, twirling a strand of her curly hazel locks. Luke really was going to town on this prank, wasn't he? "But Luke, I…I don't exactly _fight _or anything…"

"That doesn't matter. If my plan works and we get out of here quick, we won't be doing much fighting" Luke drew a deep breath and prayed for the best.

Perhaps the corpses reanimating was only his imagination, after all, he was awfully distant in the events leading up to the climax. Shaking the impossible thoughts out of his head, Luke declared that they should journey to the PE department. There was a murderer in this school nevertheless, and if they were going to escape then they needed a chance of defending themselves.

Flora asked a stream of questions on the way down to the PE department. Luke answered most of them with an 'I don't know' or 'how should I know?', as he was only there for about ten seconds of the scene. As they entered, Luke dove straight for the cupboard and flung it open. His focused eyes examined the various sport equipment, before choosing a wooden javelin spear and carefully sliding it out of its standing position. Flora gasped on sight of the knifelike edge.

"Oh Luke, what's _that _doing there? I thought we had foam javelins!" She choked, taking one step back from the inexperienced teen.

Luke shrugged his shoulders. "I guess these are the teachers' most prized possessions."

"But won't we get in trouble for taking them?"

"Probably."

Refusing to say more on the matter, Luke handed the javelin spear to Flora and continued his search for a decent weapon. Satisfied eyes were set onto a rather promising aluminium baseball bat buried in the back. He grasped the handle and lifted it out, and was almost immediately dropped to the floor by its weight. Granted, these particular bats weren't exactly that heavy but Luke certainly wasn't expecting it. When he regained his posture and balance, Flora raised her eyebrow.

"Alright, so we've got our weapons," Her eyes darted to the javelin spear that she wasn't too comfortable next to. "What now? Where's the murderer?"

As Luke opened his mouth to respond, there came a familiar, blaring sound from outside.

It was the fire bell.

But Luke and Flora couldn't smell a fire. This fact made their hearts skip a beat, and they prepared to go to the exit.

"Well…that could just be _any _emergency, you know. A teacher's toast might have been set on fi-"Flora began to reassure herself, but was cut off by a scream echoing in the hallways.

The two teens froze, chills running up and down their spines. Luke crept cautiously to the door, remaining as silent as he could possibly make himself, and his startled eyes peeked through a small gap. Outside, he saw exactly the same thing happen as this morning, but only with different people.

A student, lifeless and moaning, held up another female student who was struggling and kicking in its grasp. Before Luke could do anything, the groaning student sunk its teeth into the female student's arm, earning another panicked shriek and a spurt of blood to erupt onto the walls. Luke sucked in a scream of his own and backed away slowly to where Flora stood. She had heard it too, and she was biting her bottom lip.

"Wha…what was that…?" Her trembling voice struggled to whisper.

Luke shook his head stiffly, nothing being allowed through his numb lips. His grip tightened on the aluminium baseball bat, which reminded Flora to keep her weapon close as well. More screams came from the top floor of the school, and the sound of frantic rushing. Flora's eyes flickered to the window in concern where she saw the incident happen outside as well as indoors. About three…four students ambled through the concrete pathways, and two 'normal' people were being bitten by them. Her heart almost stopped at this sight.

"Luke…" She whimpered hoarsely. "…what do we do now?"

"_NO! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! PLEASE! HELP!"_

With that, Luke's lip twitched slightly in fear. "We've got to RUN!"

He turned on his heel and leapt through the bloody hallway, Flora close behind. The lifeless students prepared to attack, but the two teenagers were too fast for them. They moaned as they watched their prey escape their clutches and could do nothing but shamble after them. Luke saw this and pushed a bench in its direction.

"What are you doing?" Flora asked, surprised at Luke's sudden actions.

"I'm creating a diversion. This will probably slow them down" He answered.

Flora began to run again when Luke was finished. This wasn't a prank anymore; this was real. And Flora knew that her only goal was to survive this outbreak. How could she have not believed Luke when he said that the dead were coming back to life?

There were no 'normal' humans in the hallway, only one or two 'dead' ones. Questions flooded through Flora's head at that moment, and she had to ask the most basic one.

"Where are we going?" She called desperately.

"We'll go to the roof," Luke replied. "We'll wait there until the panic and fear dies down, and then we'll find a way to escape the school."

Flora nodded in understanding and made it a plan to follow Luke up there while not letting her guard down all the same. Flora was never the type for situations like these, and she struggled to not slow down. Her breath was running out already and her throat burned for water. Fighting these needs, she told herself that this was a life or death situation and the fact that they were on the run from these…things.

What the hell were they? How did they come to be? Were they still alive? Were they as dead as they appeared? Mixed emotions swept through Luke and Flora, including worry, fear, pain and anticipation. They thought of their friends and were extremely concerned for their safety. To think, it was just _this morning _when everything was as it was before and there was nothing out of the ordinary. How could the school change in a heartbeat like that?

Luke jumped around a banister and hurried up the stairs with Flora behind. Many former students followed the two living ones. Luke and Flora took this into account and made a dash for the stairs to the attic. Students were never allowed to go here, whatever the cause, as it was too high and too dangerous. However, there was no teacher to stop them this time. With a mighty push, Luke flew inside and slammed the door shut after Flora had jumped in.

"Barricade the doorway," Luke ordered. "I'll go to the roof and see if it's safe up there."

Flora did as instructed, grabbing scattered chairs and hooking them under the doorknob, javelin spear still in hand. She overturned tables with all her strength and stacked boxes on top of the objects. When everything was firmly in place, she drew an exhausted breath and turned around to face Luke. In his place stood a tall metal ladder that rested against the roof window opening. Was it even safe to be up there? Flora wondered whether to just stay in the dusty attic or join Luke on top of the school. However, an inhumanely repeated thumping against the door that Flora had barricaded forced her to choose the latter option, and she quickly climbed the unsteady ladder.

Luke stood on the roof, with shaking hands and an expression of horror on his face as he surveyed his surroundings. Flora stepped wearily over to where he was and questioned what he was looking at. When she saw, her jaw dropped. Cars were stuck in traffic jams, fire spread from house to house and blood was splattered on the roads where people fled for their safety. Police and ambulance sirens wailed through the smoky air.

"It isn't just the school…"Flora breathed unsteadily, wide eyes fixated on the sight below.

"…It's the whole of London…" Luke finished for her, holding in a gulp.

Screams of pupils was a sound that Flora and Luke could never get used to. As Flora witnessed her close friend's death, tears brimmed in her eyes. She backed away, and then dropped to the floor of the flat roof. She rocked herself back and forth in a ball, blinking furiously to try not to cry.

"Why…why did this happen, Luke? I don't understand…" Her voice cracked.

Luke sighed and wanted to cry too, but he told himself that he must act like a gentleman in front of a lady such as Flora. So many familiar faces fell prey to these mysterious beings that used to be students. This situation was no different to the movies and video games.

"These beings that are killing our friends, Flora…I think they're dead," Luke told her his thoughts. "They're the walking dead. Zombies…"

"Don't think of this as some kind of work of fiction!" Flora tried to snap, but the words left her mouth as barely a mumble. "Zombies aren't real!"

Luke looked down to his feet and sat next to Flora, ignoring the constant banging on the door below. He buried his face into his knees and listened to his heart thunder in his chest.

"But they're right in front of us, Flora. I'm afraid that the dead are coming back to life and eating humans."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!"

"But it's _true!_ What other possibility is there?"

Flora opened her mouth to retort but closed it when she found no answer to the question. No matter how much she refused to believe it, it was happening anyway. The zombie apocalypse had begun, and there was nothing two human teenagers could do about it. Their loved ones would die, and normal life would be nothing more than a memory. Nothing would ever be the same for them again. But what if it wasn't just London? What if it was England, too? What if it was America? Russia? China? The…entire world?

Suddenly, Luke's head snapped up. "The Professor!" He yelped.

"Huh?" Flora tilted her head curiously.

"If it's happening to the whole of London, then what about the Professor? What about my parents in Reading? Oh my God…"

Flora sniffed, and then threw her arms around Luke. He returned the hug and wept into her blue uniform. The girl did the same to him too, creating the sight of two forlorn friends crying into each other's embrace. If thousands of people died in less than five minutes, then surely Luke's parents and the Professor stood no chance against these creatures. Luke had to accept this fact as a true gentleman, and keep praying that everyone he loved was alright. Right now, their only goal was to wait on the roof and escape when the time was right.

…

The sky grew darker as noon arrived. Flora had passed out in Luke's arms in exhaustion, and Luke was doing his best to stay awake. They both had calmed down a little more, but the lingering worry that had formed a lump in their throats remained. The banging on the door was long forgotten, despite the fact that the barrier was about to give way at that moment, leaving the two teens with no escape route. However, this was the least of their concern. All they needed to do now was gather their strength and prepare for the day ahead. They weren't sure as to what would happen in that day, but one thing was for certain: it would be a long one.

Luke felt Flora stir in his jumper. She fought to open her droopy eyelids and brushed a strand of hair out of her way. Sitting up, she looked to the sky and gazed at the ominous-looking clouds above them.

"Was it all a dream?" She mumbled, tired.

Although she never mentioned what 'it' was, Luke knew exactly what she was talking about and wanted to nod his head to put her out of her misery. He himself wanted this all to be a nightmare that the Professor would wake him up out of. The Professor… Oh, how Luke hoped he was alright. Maybe he was sat at home, drinking tea and being completely oblivious as to what was going on outside. Maybe he was out looking for them. Or maybe… he was in danger!

With this thought, Luke blinked and stood up. Flora joined him and asked what the matter was. Luke smoothed back his messy brown hair with one hand and nodded once.

"We're going back home, to the Professor," He told her. "It may not be an easy task, but the Professor might be in danger and we've got to save him!"

Flora wanted to protest in fear of her and Luke's safety, but then agreed that she also loved the Professor too much to let him survive this on his own. They stood in silence for a while, pondering whether they should go through the school or find another dangerous exit. This silence however, was abruptly broken when the creatures below had finally managed to break through the barrier and swarm into the attic. Luke watched them flood into the room and surround the ladder, completely blocking the two off from going back down.

He thought quickly on his feet and remembered that just one floor down was the balcony he spent his break reading the book he loved so much. He stepped over to the edge of the roof and bent down, checking if it was all clear. Luke sighed in relief, and then leant over, ready to let go and jump.

"Luke, what are you doing?" Flora inquired in confusion.

"This is the only way down. Want to come with me?" The edge of Luke's mouth curled up into a slight smile before he leapt down onto the balcony one floor beneath.

Ignoring all pain in his possibly grazed knee, he brushed off his school uniform and extended his hand upwards, preparing to help Flora down as well. The girl gulped but fought her fears. She cautiously bent over the edge and let go, landing right next to Luke. Her javelin spear hadn't managed to harm anyone yet, and Luke's aluminium baseball bat was still clean. This wouldn't be the case however, as just ahead of them stood a shambling student.

Or what used to be. Its arm looked absolutely grotesque, as presumably another zombie had taken a large chunk out of it. Blood trickled from its grey head and its eyes stared lifelessly at nothing. From its throat emitted a low groaning as it caught sight of the two survivors. It shuffled closer to them and bared its crimson red teeth dripping with saliva. When it was close enough, it lunged for the children. Luke was sharp enough to realize and dodged out of its way. Flora however, wasn't so alert. She had frozen on the spot on sight of this impossible creature. And now, it had her in its firm grasp, ready to bite into her thin arm.

"Flora!" Luke gasped. "Flora, use your javelin!"

"I don't know how to!" Flora called back, her voice thick and wavering as she tried to hold in her frightened tears.

"Just…plunge it into its body or something, I don't know! Just do something!"

Flora's bottom lip trembled and she screwed her eyes shut. She used her one free arm to raise the javelin spear high in the air.

"I'm…sorry…" She rasped before plunging the razor-sharp edge right into its eye and further into its brain.

An eruption of juices mixed with contaminated blood exploded onto Flora and her surroundings. She whimpered as she felt her uniform become slightly saturated with blood and used the javelin to knock the zombie off its feet. Luke sprinted over and finished it with a blow to the head with the baseball bat.

The plasma-stained teenagers gawked in shock at the creature they had just killed. What was left of its features was quite repulsive, and it wasn't anything Flora or Luke had ever seen before.

"So we have to destroy their brains to kill them?" Luke wondered, taking in the sight of the dead zombie.

"I guess so… They _are _already dead, anyway" Flora answered, her voice still shaking.

"Hey…are you alright?" Luke asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Flora nodded slightly and looked down to her black school shoes. "Y-yeah, I guess…that was pretty scary though."

"I know" Luke agreed, sucking in his lips. "I'm so sorry this happened…"

Flora's ears perked up. "Hey, why are _you _sorry? It's not your fault this happened."

"Well, since nobody's going to apologize then I might as well do it."

Flora chuckled sweetly and shook loose liquid off her javelin. She gazed in the direction of the main school building. The screams had quietened since ten minutes earlier as there were not enough people to scream. Most students were dead, after all. The dead had replaced the living, and Luke and Flora just couldn't believe that this was the new reality for them. The fact that they had to battle zombies for the rest of their lives hadn't fully sunken in yet.

"So now we're just going to find a way out of the school and then to the Professor's house, correct?" Flora verified, not taking her studious eyes off the building.

"Yeah," Luke confirmed. "If Professor Layton's not there, then I guess we have no other option to look for a survival camp or something. But then again, I guess all of that is easier said than done really, because there are at least nine-hundred students plus teachers at our school and most of them have been infected. There are too many to fight through."

"How did everything just change like this…?" Flora repeated her thoughts from before.

"Maybe we'll find out. Maybe we won't. Well, whatever we do, we need to make it a goal to survive."

The girl nodded, setting this into her brain. Those creatures who used to be her friends were no longer alive and they wouldn't want to be milling around in a position such as their current one. Flora breathed in and turned her attention back to Luke, the boy she had spent four years of her life with.

"Thank you" She suddenly spoke.

Luke cocked his head in confusion. "For what?"

"For saving me back there. If I had stayed in the classroom then I would probably be one of them by now, so…thank you very much, Luke."

Luke blushed modestly and scratched his cheek. "You're welcome."

After a moment of silence between them, Flora straightened herself up and took a step further towards the main school building. She had changed a bit from this morning, where she had walked to school a quiet and timid sixteen year old girl. Now, she was almost anticipating adventure, but she still held that initial fear and worry. Her emotions were all over the place, but all she really wanted was to find safety. If she stayed with Luke then she would almost definitely, she told herself. So Flora whisked around to face the boy slouched over behind her. She held her hand out to him with a warm smile.

"Shall we?"


	2. Day 1- 12:15

**If you're wondering why I suddenly updated after almost a _year_, then let's just say I had a crazy writer's episode. You know, when you lose interest of a story and then all of a sudden you want to write it again? Yeah. One of those. Thank you to Fluffehkinz, AwesomeMCawesometon, Bloody NailBunny, laytonnerd, Hiya (?), The Mocking J and The Fourteenth for reviewing.**

**Wow, the Layton fanfiction fandom has changed so much from last year. So many new authors… so many new stories… Here's hoping you haven't forgotten about this one. **

**I don't own Professor Layton. **

Professor Layton and the Fatal Night

2

_DAY 1- 12:15- St Mary's High School_

"I'm _hungry!_"

"How could you be hungry at a time like _this_?"

On the other side of the infested high school, the sound of angry bickering and movement proved that Luke and Flora weren't the only survivors of that fatal half an hour. Travelling in a small group of three were students Lyssa Malone, Dave Wilson and Jade Liu. Lyssa was the eldest out of them, being seventeen years old, while Jade was the second-oldest and one of Flora's closest friends. Lastly, there was the thirteen year old Dave Wilson who was in Luke's year, and also his best friend. These three had stumbled upon each other by sheer coincidence but they weren't complete strangers to each other, as they had seen each other around school before. Jade was happy she had the two to be around, Dave was actually _excited_ that there was a zombie apocalypse in London and Lyssa appeared rather agitated that she was 'stuck' with these two. She didn't mind Jade as much but Dave really pushed her buttons. Unbeknownst to her, all Dave really wanted to do was be noticed. The two constantly argued and insulted each other while Jade slipped into the background. She never said much anyone, probably because hardly anyone ever talked to her. She remained silent and listened acutely to Lyssa and Dave share a foolish dispute.

"You're just jealous that you don't have the brains to survive. No one's as badass as me" Dave told the girl with green highlights in her spiky raven hair, closing his eyes.

"No one's as _fatass _as you, more like," Lyssa muttered under her breath in a more frustrated than teasing manner.

_Jesus Christ, the only reason I'm stuck with this dolt is because I didn't leave sooner! _She thought while running, narrowing her eyes. _Maybe I can hide and let them run on without me._

"So where are we even running to?" Dave wanted to know, his pace slowing down.

"Well you should know, after all, _you have the brains to survive_" Lyssa mimicked his voice lowly, not even facing the chubby boy.

For once, Dave was at a loss for words as he had to stop to think about it. Although Lyssa was right, he couldn't admit that. He was the one who was obsessed with zombie movies and games so he should be the all-knowing one of the group. It would be nice to be in that position. As Dave didn't have any family to worry for, he chose to enjoy what would be the most exciting moment of his life instead of crying all the way through it. The only person he cared about really was Lyssa, but he couldn't let her know _that. _

Since the outbreak occurred, the three had grouped up, attempted to call the police, attracted unwanted attention from the living dead and had done quite an amount of sprinting. After accepting the impossible fact that the corpses of staff and students were reanimated and devouring other humans, they knew that they had to escape somehow. The only questions plaguing their minds were…where do they escape to and how should they do it?

"Well, I say that we should go…somewhere" Dave tried to suggest, which earned a roll of cold black eyes from Lyssa.

"Well no duh, genius!" She spat bitterly, whisking around with a face so red that she could erupt any second. "Of all people, I had to be landed in a zombie apocalypse with _you!_"

At that moment, Dave could have compared Lyssa to a volcano, spewing out the anger and fury that she had built up inside her previously. For quite a while, Lyssa tried to keep quiet for the sake of survival, but Dave had split her last straw. She had always found him more annoying than anyone else, mainly because he had latched onto her as if he were a desperate limpet to a rock. Lyssa had absolutely no idea as to why he would do this in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, but she had went along with it and tried to control her anger…until now.

"I mean, you think you're so great when really, you're just stupid! I don't even know why you decided to come with me anyway! We've been following _my _plan for ages now because if we followed _yours, _the three of us would be killed already!" She roared fiercely, thrusting her arms behind her and clenching her fists.

Little did she know, her yelling was attracting more moaning creatures around the corner. Three of them extended their arms, yearning for the soft flesh of each of the fresh, vulnerable humans. They came behind the oblivious girl, saliva-caked teeth bared and blood trickling down their limbs. Dave and Jade backed away from them with shivers in their steps, expressions of terror on their faces. Lyssa still had no clue what they were so scared about.

"Uh…L-Lyssa…" Dave tried to warn, his voice wobbling.

"How DARE you interrupt me while I am talking! I am trying to tell you how utterly _useless _you are, so that you can get your act together when we face another zombie creature!" Lyssa shot, her voice slowly growing more ferocious by the second.

"But Lyssa-"

"I said _shut up!" _She snarled. "See, this is why you are so stupid and annoying! How would you like it if I-?"

"_LYSSA!_" Jade screamed just as one zombie lunged itself for the said girl.

Lyssa shrieked in surprise and dodged the attack, landing in a corner on her side. The three zombies hadn't noticed Dave or Jade, and wanted Lyssa first. She whimpered in fear, knowing that she was literally cornered and had no way out. Dave couldn't do anything to save her, and neither could the usually quiet individual who had found her voice to shout. The creatures dragged their feet towards the screeching seventeen-year old, heads lazily lolling to the side. They followed her particular scent to that corner and proceeded to strike.

"_Stay back!_ _I mean it!" _The ebony-haired girl hollered, frantically searching for a weapon to fight them off with.

When she realized that there was nothing to use and that this was the end for her, Lyssa let out one last, shrill shriek before curling up into a ball and waiting for their teeth to sink into her pale skin. Panicked tears welled up in the corner of her eyes and she gritted her teeth, preparing for the pain to come.

It never did.

However, the sound of gunshots and squelching came. The zombies dropped to the floor, their blood and juices gushing onto Lyssa as if she were caught in a middle of a fountain. Her hair was drenched with saliva and black mascara dribbled down her cheeks, mixed with salty wet tears. Lyssa's heavy eyelids fluttered open in curiosity while she wondered how she wasn't dead yet. Had Dave and Jade somehow stopped them? No…there was a gunshot…and the two of them hadn't a gun at all… Her questioning black eyes slowly travelled upward to see a silhouette of a tall, slim figure towering above her, pistol in hand. Dave and Jade's eyes lit up as they gasped in awe.

The man smirked and held out his free hand towards the shaken girl.

"Hello there. I'm Victor."

…

Life in the Brookwell Prison was always scarce. Everything seemed to appear rather monochrome there, as if there were sombre clouds looming only above that building and nowhere else. The surroundings were enough to make unfortunate inmates regret their actions passionately. Wrought, iron gates stood tall and proud along with guards dedicated to keep prisoners where they were supposed to be.

One of these lone prisoners was a young man named Clive. He was a quiet, broken individual with a slim figure and tousled brown hair which had lost its life over the past year, along with everything else he had. Dark circles hung under his eyes and his cold lips pressed into a firm, thin line which hadn't altered its shape in a long time. The only time Clive remembered himself smiling was when he bitterly mocked his acquaintances, but now that had gotten old as well. His dull black eyes were always cast downward; his head was always hung in sorrow. One year was enough to crumble the passion he once withheld.

Before prison, Clive had had an unfortunate life. He grew up happily as a small child, before witnessing the death of his own parents in an explosion that destroyed their home. Distraught, Clive had vowed revenge to whoever did this to the two people he loved so much, therefore placing his life and mental stability in grave danger. He was adopted by a kindly woman in her elderly years named Constance Dove, sometime later. Constance raised the young Clive as her own and taught him many things, admiring his and tactical brain. Clive had always come at the highest of his classes, both in academics and martial art, and used his level of intellect to his own advantage. He had graduated Secondary School when Constance died naturally of old age, five years after his adoption. Abolishing all available options for University, he instead devoted his life to finding who killed his parents.

Clive sighed at the memory. He didn't initially intend for it to go this far. As soon as he had found the true instigators of the experiment which had killed his dear parents, his mind had already spiralled out of control. It had already began to work, cogs whirring as he developed ideas for the ultimate plan of revenge on the undeserving Prime Minister. It wasn't fair how Bill Hawks had gained from Clive's painful loss. It wasn't fair at all. And at this moment in time, Bill was still deemed a hero by the population of London while Clive was rotting away in jail because of one single idea that made him believe that he was in the right; that he was doing the country a favour.

All he had left to hold on to now were his bitter thoughts.

Clive turned his head slowly towards the barred window next to him and watched the bare tree sway with the wind. He swore that as he had studied the outside from his cell for so long, he could even see the wind itself in its pure form. That could just be up to him possibly going insane again, anyhow. He couldn't even trust himself after what had happened. He didn't even know what sanity was and what was not anymore.

Just as he closed his eyes and leant his heavy head back against the stone cold wall behind him, a manly yell echoed from down the hall. Clive blinked once and then lowered his eyes shut again after dismissing the scream as said insanity. A collection of muffled noises occurred afterward, and since Clive was so far from everyone else he wasn't sure what it was. It did sound as if it were rather…frantic. He could have sworn he heard screaming.

Then it happened again.

Clive, sure that it couldn't just be his delusion this time, sprung to alert and jumped to his feet. There was an eerie silence as he surveyed his surroundings cautiously. What could this be…? Nothing ever happened in the prison. He had no cellmates and no inmates in the cells adjacent to his, so there was no one to ask. He smelt the air. There was a thick and oppressive miasma all of a sudden, and the convict had no idea why. Then Clive remembered which direction the scream came from…

…The direction of the officer's room.

What? Had a prisoner escaped? No, that couldn't be it, all cell locks were operated from the control room and that was on the other side of the prison away from the holding cells. Unless… Clive stepped forward, his footstep the only sound filling his ears other than his beating heart. He reached out a shaking hand and quickly tapped the lock in front of him, not expecting anything to occur. But strangely… the cell door slowly gave way and revealed the entrance.

Clive stifled a gasp. This couldn't be right at all… There wasn't a chance that a prisoner could somehow escape, sneak through a guarded prison and into a control room without being caught, and somehow end up into the officer's room immediately after.

It was impossible.

Absurd.

But silently, Clive was hoping that this was the explanation behind this madness. What else could it be? Not sure what to think, he decided to use this opportunity to break free from his cell for the first time in one year, and rush to the storage room upstairs to find his clothes and to check on the guard there. If everything was alright, then the guard would be standing tall and would usher Clive back to his cell seeing as the escaped prisoner in Clive's theory would have to pass that guard to get to the control room.

He took off, running as quietly as he could manage in order to not attract any unwanted attention just in case the screaming was a hoax and there was just a system malfunction. Then again, if it were a malfunction then hundreds of prisoners would be screaming and going out in riots just about now or something…So why were the hallways so scarce?

Clive reached the storage room and held his breath. This was it. If the guard was alive and well, then he was just out here for nothing and could just say he was there to report a problem. It probably would go down worse in all actuality, but Clive hoped that that guard was nicer than the others. Gathering up the courage to talk, he pushed open the metal door and stumbled into the small dimly-lit area. The air smelt strongly of blood; he wrinkled his nose and stepped back gingerly. Then, at his feet, Clive's eyes widened as he bit his lip to stop the impending shriek from the back of his throat.

The body of a prison guard lay motionlessly on the ground in a pool of his own blood, eyes empty. The young man edged around the body, thoughts racing through his mind as he searched for a reason how he could have died. There were no stab wounds, no bruises or indication of physical torture or damage on first sight... the body was almost perfect, yet it looked as if it were killed quickly due to the loss of blood from somewhere he couldn't identify. Even Clive was aware that without practical methods this was hardly possible, especially for a buff, bloodthirsty prison inmate. Then Clive's head snapped up. What if the killer was still lingering around? What if he was outside right now, waiting for him?

He scanned the pile of folded prisoner clothes, wondering if they threw his away or burned them. They usually did that to the clothes belonging to those who had been in the prison for over a few years, or to those who were yet so serve a long sentence. Luckily, a familiar flash of blue caught the corner of his eye and he grinned in satisfaction, grabbing his old 'Future Luke' garments out from under that pile and shoes from the shelf above it. The clothes smelt exactly the same as they did a year ago, save for a slight, hardly noticeable odour there from the lack of a wash. After an extremely fast change, Clive thought fast on his feet about his current situation. There was no sign of a killer around him, so if there was one, they had to be outside somewhere.

It was a moment before Clive realised he needed a method of defence. Ah, the weapons safe! He made his way over and, with a sharp slam of his elbow, bust the old metal open. There was a loud clatter on the floor as a stun gun fell out of the safe, and as the metal door swung open it revealed an array of weapons used by inmates accused of assault on moment of arrest. These were probably in the possession for new inmates that hadn't had their trial yet, or the weapons would have already been taken away for evidence.

As Clive was pondering to himself, he didn't notice a shuffling behind him and a sudden, animalistic groan. He froze in his tracks. His eyes were wide. His mouth hung slightly ajar.

_What...?_

Rigidly, Clive decided to turn around. It couldn't be. Someone couldn't be behind him; he had closed the door so someone couldn't simply just 'slip' inside unnoticed, and there was no one else here apart from him and the dead prison guard. Wait. Clive allowed himself a blink. The dead prison guard? He turned around.

It was lucky Clive was on alert, as a hand swept in to grab him with force and he immediately dived out of the way. Landing in the other corner of the storage room on shaky feet, Clive took a moment to gather his breath and thoughts. _What the hell just happened?! _He peered up at the being in front of him, which ambled distantly towards him as if he was dead.

_As if he was dead_… Clive's heart skipped a beat. That person standing tall above him, that had attacked him (or tried to) …was the prison guard that was lying on the floor earlier…

How the hell could this even be possible? He was supposed to be dead? Was he even dead though? No, he had to be, of course he was dead… Then, why was he suddenly alive now? Clive gazed up into the lifeless, monochrome shells that used to be the guard's eyes and then bit his lip. Just because he was up and walking…didn't mean he was necessarily _alive_. Wait, what was Clive even thinking? That wasn't possible, for the dead to come back to life! It was unthinkable!

But…

What about how all the cells were unlocked? The screaming? How this unknown killer was in two places at one time? What if the dead _were_ coming back to life and killing others…? Even though Clive couldn't trust his own common sense let alone his sanity, that was the most plausible explanation for the matter.

Clive snapped back to reality once he realised the current position he was in. He put himself on the defence and searched the room for a weapon. No, the…'guard' was stood in front of the weapons safe! Clive cringed and scrambled to his feet, his familiar clothes acting as his only source of comfort at the time. Then he remembered that, as he had opened the safe, something fell to the floor. The _stun gun!_

He leapt forward and grabbed it, held his breath and looked towards the dead guard in front of him and in one second, electrocuted the creature. The guard fell to the floor, stunned, while Clive regained his composure in recovery.

"Oh my god…" He let out under his breath, studying the body.

The guard was still twitching, so he was still 'alive'. That meant that Clive didn't have very long to find a weapon and escape from this place. But where the hell would he even go? It wasn't like the prison guards could do anything now… Would he go back to the Professor? After all, he was the only one he knew to go to… It was still so overwhelmingly surreal, however. Maybe this was all just a bad dream. Maybe this was all in his head. Maybe this was because he had gone insane again and started having hallucinations.

A groaning behind him was to be heard, which meant he had to pick up the pace. Clive bounced around the room and took a rather sharp and intimidating chef's knife from the safe, faintly stained with droplets of blood from possibly a murder scene Clive didn't know of, and then he whipped his head around for more tools. A knife on its own couldn't be enough.

The only items in this room besides the clothes was a broomstick, a roll of duct tape, the stun gun from earlier that Clive kept defensively in his grip and a cluster of miscellaneous objects scattered on the shelves. Clive suddenly had an idea. He sprung forward, snapped the mop fabric from the broomstick and reached for the duct tape. Using another smaller knife from the safe to cut the duct tape, Clive wrapped it around both the handle of the knife and the sturdy stick of the broom so that a makeshift spear was formed. He spared himself a grin, impressed at his own handiwork.

He peered over at the duct tape packaging. _'Extra strong and firm'_, it read.

"You better not be lying to me…" Clive muttered.

All of a sudden, the shuffling was to be heard again and this time, Clive was ready. After fitting the stun gun into one of his jacket pockets, he spun around swiftly and in one strike, plunged the spear into the creature's stomach. An eruption of blood spurted onto the knife as Clive worked it in. After a moment of the guard's twisting and jerking telling him that this wasn't the way to kill it, Clive decided to rely on his knowledge of fiction and drew the spear from the bloody innards.

He grimaced at the sight, not being used to seeing large amounts of blood and gore in such a long time. But, there was a part of him… that _wanted _to witness more of it. He didn't even know what it was.

_Could it be that…? No… _Clive stopped himself mid-thought as he suppressed the personal dilemma for later. This was a more important matter. Sins in the past meant nothing now.

Fact 1: This 'guard' was going to kill him, no matter if he was dead or alive.

Fact 2: Clive wanted to live.

So after stumbling backwards as he had taken the spear away, he jumped up and aimed for the guard's head. This was it. The first murder he had committed in a year after the incident. Was it really 'murder' though?

With no more hesitation, Clive threw the blade into the depths of the guard's skull, piercing the skin and bone and finally driving itself through the brain. The creature gagged, blood leaking from its mouth and eyes turning purple before it was over. It staggered forward and back, until its legs finally gave way and it fell to the ground in defeat.

There was a suffocating moment of silence. Clive let out heavy breaths as he bore witness to the actions he had just committed. That was a guard he had just killed… Then again, wasn't it already dead in the first place? He sighed. Enough questions. Enough confusion. If he escaped without hesitation and panic spiralling through his mind, there was more of a chance he would survive through this, whatever it was.

He just needed to get to a television and switch on the news, fast. He needed to know what the hell was happening and confirm it in the first place.

As he gathered himself and stepped over the guard's body, he retrieved the bloody spear with a fierce tug and pulled open the door. He scanned the outside hallway to make sure it was safe and to his advantage, nothing was in the way. So, the nearest television that he had access to was in the…

It was in the canteen. Everyone and everything had access to that. There was no doubt that Clive would encounter more of these creatures sometime soon, be it prison guards or inmates themselves. There were enough questions asked. Now he just needed to find the answers.

Another scream.

A scream in the direction he was heading made Clive stop in his tracks. He cocked his head in interest. For one, there hadn't been a panic for a great amount of time and so he had assumed everyone was dead, had ran away or had turned into one of 'them, and second, that scream was definitely…feminine. This was a male's prison, no inmates nor guards were female. Clive raised an eyebrow and tightened his grasp on the spear.

This certainly called for investigating.

And why did he feel somewhere, that he _knew _that scream?

A good while before, a slender young woman had ran into the gates of Brookwell Prison, yellow jacket stained with a mixture of blood and dirt, and a silver camera in belt. Emmy Altava sprinted through the entrance and stopped soon after to catch her breath, bunchy dark chocolate hair falling in its ponytail beside her face. She too, had been caught up in the madness of London and naturally tried to go to the man she trusted best with her life- Professor Layton.

Only it was years after their last adventure together, and she hadn't a clue where on earth he lived now. Well, she hadn't a clue in where he lived in the first place. He had always been rather solitary in his Gressenheller office, confining himself in with a tray of Earl Grey tea and a cluster of Archaeology textbooks. Emmy had wondered to herself whether he even lived _there._

So, without an answer as to where the Professor resided, Emmy began to do what she did best—_search _for him. And the first part of doing that would be to ask people she presumed knew where he was.

One of these people, she noticed, could have been the terrorist that decided he would try and destroy London one year ago. She could have tried Scotland Yard to find Inspector Chelmey, but that area was too far into the centre of London where all the chaos was still amidst. It was a plus that Brookwell Prison was rather close to her home, anyway.

Though Emmy didn't know this man (and frankly, didn't want to), she had done research of her own on his past. Apparently his name was Clive, his parents had died in an explosion ten years ago and the Professor had saved him from the blast. And ten years later, the angry orphan sought revenge on the Prime Minister and kidnapped him while placing the whole city in danger with no qualms about massacring an entire population.

It was disgusting to think about, really. But Clive seemed to be Emmy's most recent link to the location of the Professor, and as the headstrong woman she was, she was going to do anything to get to her goal.

The atmosphere of the prison was still intimidating, and it was both before and after a crisis where the dead were coming back to life. Emmy had already fought through piles of these creatures and had slipped away luckily as she had no weapon of her own and only her martial art skill to rely on. If she wasn't as slick, she probably wouldn't have gotten away so easily. Even Emmy had her own doubts about London's current state; what was happening and why was fiction coming to life? It all seemed so impossible until now. Today had started as a normal day for her, but had progressed into anyone's worst nightmare. The amount of deaths that had happened… well, this pestilence certainly did a better job of eradicating London than that 'Clive' guy did.

The only problem was in that though, the Professor hadn't been there to stop_ this_ from happening.

The hallways of the prison were surprisingly empty, as were the offices on first sight. Emmy guessed that the panic of the building had died down already and since all inmates were in a confined space together, guards included, there wasn't a high chance of any of them surviving. It was more than likely that most if not all of them were the creatures now. Or should Emmy have titled them as 'The Walking Dead'? It was rather extreme to jump to the conclusion that these creatures were _zombies _like in the films, but what other explanation could there be?

"Wh…who are you?" A weak, croaky voice emitted from behind her.

Emmy spun around, hands ready to attack anything and anyone that was a threat to her. She studied the dark-haired young man lying on the ground in a prisoner's clothing, blood dripping down his arm. When she realised that there was hardly a threat at all, Emmy cautiously stepped forward, head high in the air. She decided to be direct with this inmate; after all there was no time for interrogation.

"My name is Emmy Altava. And you might be?"

The young man's ears perked up. "…Chase. Chase O'Hara. What are you doing in a place like this…at this time, Emmy?"

Emmy brushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear and faced Chase. "I'm looking for a prison inmate called Clive Dove. Do you know him?"

Chase bit his lip, all of a sudden apprehensive. "Clive Dove? You mean _the _Clive Dove? What could you possibly want with _him_?"

"What I want with him is my business," Emmy narrowed her eyebrows. "So do you know him or not? Where he is, possibly?"

"…Clive is…'famous' throughout the prison, you see, because of what he did. After a little conflict earlier on in the year he was moved into a cell upstairs with no one with him. It's a good thing too. Even I'm quite scared of him. As for where he is, I have no idea. I'm sorry. He's probably one of 'them' now, like the others…" Chase answered, holding his injured arm tightly in an effort to stop the bleeding.

Emmy pressed a hand to her lips. "I see…thanks for your help," Her eyes were directed to the wound on the young man's limb. "Hey, have you hurt yourself?"

"…Yeah…" Chase replied through gritted teeth, the pain getting worse. "I was bitten already by one of the inmates…It wasn't deep, but I suppose there's not much time for me left, now."

Emmy leaned her head in to investigate the area of damage. Surely, it couldn't be that bad! If the wound wasn't that deep, then surely there must be a way of saving this man! Seeing as Emmy had realised also one of the dangers of being the only vulnerable female in a male prison surrounded by inmates that hadn't had…certain activities in a long while and this Chase was treating her awfully kindly, he deserved some kind of help, no matter what he did to get here…!

Emmy smiled genuinely in a contrast to the firm exterior she had put on earlier towards Chase. "Where's the nearest infirmary from here, Chase?"

"Eh?" Chase's full attention was grabbed. "Right next to the canteen, why?"

Emmy's smile advanced into a grin. "Come on, we're going to get you saved."

The two walked down the hallways towards the other side of the prison for the infirmary, Chase limping slightly and Emmy holding him by the other arm for support. She was on alert to defend the pair of them just in case anything out of the blue flew towards them and they happened to be caught off guard.

"So why are you helping me?" Chase forced out.

"Well, you helped me, didn't you? Plus, you seem nice and I don't want to witness any more deaths that I could have stopped" Emmy's lips pressed into a thin line at the last sentence, not wanting to go on anymore.

Chase's eyes travelled in another direction. "I see… So anyway, what makes you so sure that you can save me? After all, isn't this what happens in the movies? If you get bitten, you're infected and you turn into one of them, right?"

"I don't know," Emmy took Chase into the dark of the corner and watched ahead, waiting to see if it was all clear. When there was nothing for a while, they began their journey down that hallway. "I guess it's just that your wound isn't that deep and you're not dead yet, so I don't want to give up. And there's also the bonus that you could lead me to Clive if he's still alive."

"I honestly wonder what do you need with that man. He's the most dangerous person in this whole prison, you know. There's a reason they kept him up there by himself."

"Hm…" Was all Emmy could say in response.

She was putting herself under a heavy risk, going forward to try and find Clive. She didn't even know his personality; he was probably as dangerous and risky as he sounded in the newspapers. Even _prisoners _were afraid of him, for crying out loud. How old was he anyway? Emmy had read in plenty of papers that he was twenty years old, then suddenly he was twenty five, or in some prints he was twenty three. Had these journalists not even bothered _asking _him? Or were they just too scared, perhaps?

"So Chase… would you like to tell me about yourself?" She began, hoping to fill the awkward silence.

"Well… I—_**AGH!" **_In hardly a full second, Chase let out a cry of pain and collapsed to the floor, arm throbbing and excess blood pulsing through and out of the wound again.

Emmy gasped and grabbed him to his feet, trying to quieten his cries. "Sh, it's okay! We're going to get you to infirmary as soon as possible and you're going to live, I promise!"

Chase shook his head, blood trickling from his mouth. "It's already…too late…"

"_No!_" Emmy yelled, taking him by the arm and running with him towards the canteen.

There was only one more hallway left until the area, Chase gritting his teeth to stop the shrieking as best as he could while on the way. Little did they know, the noise and stumbling had attracted some unwanted…attention from behind them…

Emmy and Chase burst into the canteen. Immediately, Emmy slammed the doors shut and made work of barricading them with chairs under the locks. The two humans panted and collected their breaths again. Emmy's throat burned for water, and she didn't even have the right mind to pack any as she was in such a rush to leave her lonely apartment before it was invaded.

"So, is there any other way into here?" Emmy breathed out in exhaustion.

"No… I don't think so…we should have time before they sense we're here, or anything like that..." Chase replied weakly. "The infirmary is just through that door there…"

Following the point of his finger, Emmy saw that an open doorway was at the foot of the canteen and that they should leave for it. The girl followed by the man ran into the little room, which had cupboards full of medicine, a treating bed with white sheets and a laptop on a desk that appeared untouched. Emmy noticed the lack of blood or damaged furniture around.

"It's likely that no one ran into here in the impact, or the only ones who did were turned almost immediately" She mused, scanning around for a sign of blood.

As soon as Chase sat himself on the bed, Emmy had already begun her search for the bandages. She found them soon enough, and was already wrapping them around Chase's wound within an instant. It was a while before anyone filled the tension in the air.

"…My mother was poor. She couldn't afford to look after me and my brothers properly, so we often went out stealing things. This was practise all childhood. We couldn't help it; we'd die of starvation as we had nothing to eat and nowhere to call home," Chase sighed in memory while Emmy stared at him, listening intently. "My mother said that the prisons could look after us, the prison would give us a bed to sleep in, food to eat and warmth at night. So she made us go out and do terrible things. My younger brothers assaulted or murdered people. I however would never do such a thing even if it meant having somewhere to stay, so I attempted to rob a bank. I got caught, of course, and here I am. My mother committed suicide. My brothers are in different prisons. It's rather unfortunate, isn't it?"

Emmy's eyes were full of consideration toward the young man. So really, he hadn't even done anything wrong aside from the stealing… his mother just wanted him to be safe. That was it. That was why he was here. She cut the bandage's end and placed the roll next to her on the bed.

"…I'm sorry" She mumbled, forlorn.

"No, don't be sorry," Chase gave her a soft smile. "I just wanted a nice thought before I left."

"'Left'? Chase, you're going to be fine, believe me! Look at your arm, it's all bandaged up now! You're going to survive! The bleeding's stopped hasn't it?"

Despite Emmy's cries of panic, Chase simply shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak.

Before he could even say anything however, a clatter in the distance interrupted both of their thoughts. Both of them froze. Emmy jumped up in a mix of curiosity and fear, edging towards the entry of the infirmary for a closer look of the door. She secretly hoped that this would be nothing. It had to be, hadn't it? There was no way out… and Chase had just confessed to her about his story… no! There had to be a happy ending…!

Emmy's eyes widened when she caught sight of her barricade rattling and the doors pressing forward against the weight of whatever the hell was on the other side. No…this wasn't how it was supposed to go…

Chase screamed behind her suddenly, causing her to whip around and face him. He choked out blood, the crimson pouring from both the corners of his mouth and his eyes. Already, he looked ill…dead…

…_Infected._

"…Didn't you see, Emmy…?" Chase coughed out in a harsh rasp. "…It's already too late for me…!"

Emmy didn't know what to concentrate on. Either way she knew that she was doomed anyway, just because she wanted to help someone. She felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes at how hopeless she was.

"N-no… wait here, Chase! I'll… I'll stand guard out here, okay!" She coursed to the outside, and before she knew it the doors had given way and burst open, allowing a pool of creatures to flood into the canteen in search of life for them to infect or eat.

They moaned with arms outstretched as they locked on to Emmy. She winced at the number of them closing in on her from all directions. She couldn't even finish off any of these by fighting as there were far too many she could handle alone and already there was hardly any chance of escape. There was though, the direction of the infirmary where she could duck in of the room, grab Chase and then elude these creatures around them to the entrance! Yes, that was a fantastic plan!

"Come on, Chase!" She called, forcing herself to grin at her plan. "We're getting out of…"

Her words faltered.

Her heart stopped.

Chase stumbled out of the infirmary, skin gray, head lolled, eyes bloodshot and a guttural groaning coming from the back of his throat as he shuffled towards the direction of the noise. Emmy gritted her teeth in shock, heart skipping multiple beats at the state of the inmate.

"…No…"

Chase, or what was left of him, had already sealed off her only method and plan of escape, and already all of them were closing in on her towards the wall behind her. She backed up against it, sensing that there was nowhere left to run.

Emmy let out a yell of terror, desperate for someone to come and help. When no one did, she closed her eyes in defeat and sunk back into the wall. Oh well. So much for trying to find the professor. She should have just gone ahead into London and tried anywhere, right? At least she wouldn't be in this mess… Hah, and here Emmy had thought she was headstrong and knew her way around. She thought she could cruise through life with determination and nothing else. How… foolish.

Just before what used to be Chase could grab her face and pull her towards his awaiting mouth, he was abruptly knocked back by…something.

Something had swept each creature away from her with surprising force, attacking and destroying in a full cycle. Emmy crouched down and tightly shut her eyes, waiting for the madness to be over.

A crackle of electricity in the distance and the sound of bodies being slammed against the floor as well as squelches of blood and the cracking of bones were all the things that filled Emmy's ears.

Soon enough, the sound died down, and Emmy gave herself a moment to regain her composure. Everything was dead. She…was alive? How…? She slowly opened her eyes and placed her arms back by the sides of her body. Emmy glanced forwards to acknowledge what saved her, and both eyebrows rose at the sight.

A familiar-appearing man, stun gun in hand, clothed in a green vest covered by a dark blue jacket and maroon shorts and knee socks covering his legs, stood before the woman amongst the bodies, emotionless expression adorning his visage. He stared down at the dead creature lying in a grotesque puddle of blood before retrieving his messy spear from the body's back. The man placed the stun gun back in his pocket and stepped forward, only stopping to kneel down in front of Emmy. Her breath hitched.

He was the one to speak first.

"What are you doing here?" A rather obvious question, but important at most. He still had no idea why a young woman such as herself would even want to associate with this place.

Emmy gulped and directed her gaze over to the tangle of red that used to be Chase and frowned, before turning back to the man in front of her fearlessly.

"I came here looking for _you_…Clive."

He blinked once, eyes wide and full of interest at the mention of his name. What business could someone like her have with someone like him, especially in a time like this?

"Is that so?" Clive's lip curled down as he wondered. "Might I ask, why?"

Emmy breathed in and out, registering that she was currently sharing a conversation with possibly one of the most deadly living criminals in the whole of England. There was a slight problem in her 'fear' though… Clive didn't seem to appear as hostile as she expected. In fact, she felt less tense than earlier.

"…I need you to help me find someone" Her request tumbled out in a pile of words, but Clive sharply caught on.

The same plain expression rested on his face. He hadn't had proper human contact in such a long time…

"Oh? And who might this person be?" Clive asked her, his head tilting ever so slightly.

Emmy waited a little before her answer. She wasn't dumb; she realised that Clive knew her in one way or another due to the lack of questions about who she actually was. She heard that Clive's last occupation was a journalist… perhaps he could have interviewed her back when she was still travelling with the Professor?

Ah…yes.

Emmy felt the tug of a smirk edging on her lips.

"His name," She started, watching Clive's expression carefully.

"…Is Professor Hershel Layton."


	3. Day 1- 13:10

**Alright, I tried to update quicker this time…One week is fairly fast for me anyway, so please go along with it XD**

**Thank you so much, The Mocking J and Anastasia Dove, for your reviews. I treasure them a lot. It's people like you who keep me going ^^ Although the last chapter received two reviews (don't get me wrong, those reviews were absolutely brilliant), I looked at the traffic for the last chapter and it was literally through the roof. I'm happy that, even though they're not reviewing or anything, people are still reading and that's what I care most about. Thank you, everyone. I do not own Professor Layton. (Oh yes, on a side note, it looks as if the site is accidently deleting words or even paragraphs from this story? If you find a grammatical error, then please let me know as I have checked over my document work and spelling, and everything seems fine...) **

Professor Layton and the Fatal Night

3

_DAY 1- 13:10- St Mary's High School_

Cautiously treading through the school hallways, Luke and Flora kept their guards up while they proceeded to search for the safest way to the exit. The pair of them watched out for themselves and for each other as they attempted their best to evade the clutches of the undead. Neither of the pair had spoken a word for what seemed to the longest time of their lives, save for the slight conversation shared when commenting on a possible escape route or the nagging to keep quiet as they snuck past unsuspecting creatures. Luke checked his watch peeking out from under his school shirt sleeve. It had almost been an hour since they decided to get up and mill around. Most of this time had been swallowed up however, by traipsing through the vast school and planning out tactics, and the comforting sound of another voice that was there for them, a voice that was still _alive. _

Luke curved his head around the corner, grip on the aluminium bat tightening. "It looks like this way's blocked too. I guess the only way out is by the front entrance and we have to fight our way through… but there are so many of them and only two of us!" He groaned. "Why do we have such a large school, anyway?"

Flora shook her head in uncertainty. "I don't know the answer to that question, I'm afraid. It seems to me that most students were quite taken with the idea of a huge building in the beginning, though."

"This would have been much better if we went to a village school or something" Luke muttered.

"Village schools practically don't exist in London."

"I know that, I was just musing."

Flora quietened down and leant her head over her shoulder. Her grasp on the javelin spear had loosened in weakness, her expression dismal yet anxious at their current situation. She still couldn't get around to being accustomed to it no matter how much she tried to. Who else had survived? What if Luke and her were the only survivors of the school? That would mean that all her friends, best friends, teachers, classmates… gone. Forever. She still had a hard time accepting it, but she pushed down her tears with a bite on her lips. Flora had been alone for most of her life, so much so that she actually developed a fear of being by herself. She couldn't let that happen, no matter how innocent she thought herself to be, she needed to fight to keep on going. But, '_fight'_? …How?

Thoroughly interrupting his train of thought, Luke felt a sharp pang of hunger in his stomach. When was it that he last ate? He leaned his head halfway around his shoulder, the corner of his eyes facing the concerned girl behind him.

He studied her for a bit. For a young teenage girl who hadn't much experience to the outer world, she was taking a situation where the dead were coming back to life and eating humans awfully well. Then again, wasn't he? It was rather difficult to take this all into account… Everything was speeding and moving so quickly… One moment, Luke's only worry was his long-forgotten book and the next moment, the only idea occupying his mind was survival. He imagined that the true shock would settle in once the pair of them had completely ascertained the authenticity of the predicament.

"Hey Flora," Luke suddenly spoke, his tone lowered into a hushed whisper. "Are you hungry?"

Said girl blinked, bottom lip protruding slightly in bewilderment. _Of course, we're stuck in the middle of a life-threatening crisis and all Luke can think about is food. _However, Flora was curious as to where he was going this. Perhaps this could just be an opportunity for them to hide out and talk over strategies again, which is what the two of them secretly wanted to do. They both knew that each way out of the school was blocked and with their limited knowledge of self-defence, no way could they clear a path so easily.

"Quite, what could you be planning?" Flora questioned in interest.

Luke nudged his head towards a pair of double doors to the side of them and narrowed his eyes to illustrate the concentration he dedicated to his plan. "The canteen's just through there. If we can sneak past and lock the doors, then we can grab something to eat, drink and run after."

"What if we find…'students' still there?"

Luke's free hand sneaked up around Flora's fingers again, holding his adoptive sister firmly and protectively, despite the fact that he was the younger here. He gave her a reassuring beam, one that spoke a thousand words. Within these words was the signal that they both wanted to hear: that the two of them were alive, they always had each other to count on, and they were going to do their best to get through this together. Flora hadn't a choice before she found the corner of her lips tug into a smile to return to her dear brother.

Luke thrust his baseball bat high in the air in determination, gazing up to the ceiling. "…Then we just wing it."

Eluding the presence of what used to be students, Luke and Flora shimmied silently across the wall in an attempt to reach their destination ahead. So far, they knew this much: that these 'zombies' were purely ignorant until a loud noise or scent attracted them, and that in order to defeat them the head must be attacked. Flora was at first rather reluctant to the idea of killing the remains of her classmates as they could just be ill, when Luke somehow managed to convince her that they were already dead anyway. After all, in this school when hardly anyone was alive, did it really matter who was a murderer and who wasn't?

A rasping in front of them gave them both the sign that more students were advancing their way, and that they needed to speed up. It was now or never. Crossing to the edge of the opposite wall in two swift steps, the pair landed in front of the aforementioned double doors. After checking the hallway to see that two former students were roaming needlessly close by, Luke and Flora turned their heads back toward each other and nodded once, before pushing open the barriers together in unison. After both living students had reviewed the spacious room in front of them and found it empty, they briskly jumped inside and closed the doors.

They took this free moment to catch their previously held breaths.

"…The canteen looks safe, at least," Luke observed, eyes darting about in case of a sudden objection. "If there are any of those zombies in here, then we can finish them off together, okay?"

Flora nodded in acceptance before her face contorted into a soft distress, reminiscent of a wince. "I still can't get used to calling them 'zombies', it just sounds a little…surreal, you know?"

"Well, what other name can we call them?"

"...I'm not sure, but until we're one-hundred percent sure that they really are the dead are coming back to life, then I'd like to stay unaware for now" Flora sighed, her breath blowing a strand of brown hair from her face.

Luke agreed this, not feeling that this was the exact time and place to argue. A spark of life was partially restored in him however when he remembered where they were. With a clatter of his baseball bat as he dropped it to the floor, he bounded off to the direction of the kitchen and, as soon as he happily saw that there were no creatures, pulled open the fridge doors to find leftovers of miscellaneous items of food. Flora followed suit, the anxiety of being alone creeping in. A packet of biscuits landed in her clutches while Luke gathered a packet of crisps, a bottle of water and a couple of sandwiches into his arms and emptied them onto a table outside. He sat on a chair and cautiously opened his crisps; Flora perched beside him on another with the biscuits in her hands.

"Help yourself to the sandwiches and water, I got a lot for the reason that we'd be sharing. Also, if you'd like to go to the toilet then now would be the most adequate time" Luke advised, his speech shortly after interrupted by the crunch of the snack between his teeth.

Flora acknowledged his words and scanned the room around them, a familiar sight. She and her friends would be sitting around one of these tables around now-ish while they ate their lunches, talking about various mundane topics such as clothes, boys and shopping. Where would all of them be now? Would they still be alive, or would they have turned into one of…them? Flora could have sworn she had caught a glimpse of a creature shuffling around with looks akin to one of her friends, and of course there was that close friend that she witnessed the brutal death of earlier.

The girl stood, calmly walking toward the direction of the ladies' room and trusting Luke would be alright sitting on his own. While they both had weapons to defend themselves, being split up meant that they were both as vulnerable as each other as they were both alone. _Alone…_Flora shuddered at the mention of that word as it entered her head.

Once she had performed the usual routine of checking for creatures (she had done this so many times already that she had almost gotten used to it), Flora stepped into the bathroom and faced the giant mirror in front of her. This mirror reflected every truth. It showed her the tired, forlorn face she wore, her bloodstained navy blue uniform, her intimidating javelin spear next to her and her messy hair tangled in worry and madness. She rested both hands on the cool porcelain of the sink beneath her, before reaching up and undoing her ribbon to let her hair fall not-so-gracefully around her features. She gave it a quick comb through between her fingers, and after that she tied it up again which proved slightly difficult due to the loss of a hairbrush in order to keep it from the state of being unkempt.

Flora ran the tap and used the refreshing water to splash herself in the face, perhaps as an absent-minded attempt to wake herself up and accept the fact that she was landed in the middle of perhaps one of the largest crisis she would ever live to see, and it was probably so much larger than she imagined. When her hand had finished vigorously shaking to dry itself from the contact of liquid, she brought it back down to set on the counter beside the sink.

But what the softness of her palm collided with wasn't the expected counter. Flora spun around in questioning, ready to investigate what she had touched when she realised… the object was a sleek noir, flip mobile phone. A student must have accidently left it here in a panic to escape! With both eyebrows raised in surprise and glee, Flora grabbed the phone along with her spear, and proceeded to make a hasty exit to Luke.

"Luke!" She called, not too audible.

Said boy's ears perked up at the mention of his own name. He turned around to face her, interested in what news she had to share. By the looks of her suddenly-vibrant expression, he needed to know what it was.

"Luke, take a guess what I found in the girls' toilets" She extended her arm to him, showing the phone encased in her grasp.

Luke immediately felt his own face brighten up. "A mobile? That's great! We can get into contact with our families now!"

Flora sincerely hoped that he meant the Professor by 'our families', as now was not the time to cast her mind back to her mother and father's deaths. She wondered, what would they be thinking if they were watching her life and seeing that their own daughter had killed these creatures by herself? Would they be proud or…horrified?

Luke opened the phone and dialled the number of his parents, wanting to get the knowledge that they were safe over and done with. Flora watched intently.

"…It's ringing" The boy noted once he had held it up to his ear, his eyes staring skyward as he prayed under his breath that someone, anyone would answer.

"_Hello there, you have reached Clark and Brenda Triton, unfortunately we are not present to answer at the moment but if you would like to leave a message…"_

"What?!" Luke gasped, tears springing to his eyes as the pre-recorded message went on. "They _always _answer!"

Again, nothing on the redial. Flora pursed her lips in concern, before placing her free hand onto Luke's in comfort.

"They just could be busy…Don't worry, I'm sure they're alright…"

"But, they must know it's me! How could they not answer their own son?" Luke protested, his voice beginning to crack.

"No, no! They might be running away now… For all we know, this could just be happening in London! Your parents might be alright in Reading, or they could be out looking for you or something! It might even just be the signal's fault!" Flora's tone also weakened as she struggled for alternate possibilities to help Luke calm down. After all, the worst thing they could both do in a life or death situation such as this one was panic, they had both already registered that fact.

Luckily, Luke digested these words. "…Yeah. There could be that. Let's just hope that our 'world' theory is wrong and this zo—_creature _thing is only happening in London. Anyway, we should try to call the Professor now" And with that, Luke entered the digits for the Professor's number and hoped that he would answer. He selected the speakerphone option and held the phone out for Flora to hear as well.

Luke and Flora both listened to the ringing tone, anxiously waiting for any sign of life on the other end.

A click as the phone was picked up.

"You have reached Professor Layton. Who might this be?" A clear, familiar voice cut through the silence as if it possessed knifelike qualities, sending grins to the students' mouths.

"Professor!" Luke cried through the phone in joy, burying the previous worry he held when trying to contact his parents earlier. "Professor it's me, Luke! Flora's with me too!"

"Luke, is that you?" Professor Layton inquired on the end of the phone, sounding quite a bit muffled due to the lack of signal.

"Yes, it's me! Me and Flora, we're safe! Thank goodness you are too!"

There was an almost incoherent sigh of relief to be heard through the speaker. "That's genial, my boy. However, we do have quite a…'problem' outside so if you could resist, please do not leave the school, assuming you and Flora are still there."

Even though Layton couldn't see him, Luke nodded his head in a shaky motion. "Yes Professor. But how are we possibly going to get to you?"

"Don't worry about me, just stay put and I'll come to you two. It's positively wonderful to hear that you and Flora are both safe and well, just please don't go outside or place yourself in any sort of danger," The line suddenly crackled as it struggled to hold onto the only signal trace it had.

"Professor?" Luke's eyes widened in realisation of the fact that they wouldn't be talking for much longer.

"…Remember to always…"

"Professor?!"

"… Watch the news, just keep updated and watch the—"

Before the two teenagers could even register the Professor's previous words, the line went completely dead. Layton's comforting but somewhat frantic voice was replaced with an everlasting high pitch of sound for a short while, before being interrupted by the annoyance of an automated message.

"_We're sorry for the inconvenience, but it appears your call cannot be taken at this point, please try again within…"_

There was a silence between the two as they let the words go on until Luke finally flipped the phone shut. He glanced at Flora who returned his concern, as they both mentally pondered over what had just occurred. There were two things that were gathered; that the two of them couldn't contact the Professor or anyone else again and that the signal was flickering for a reason, one reason that the two students really didn't want to imagine.

There was an awkward moment while Luke placed the flip phone on one of the tables and took a sip of water to soothe his dry throat. It wasn't long before Flora remembered what the Professor had said before they were cut off. She smoothed back her hair and faced the canteen television sat on a high ledge where students could watch during usual lunchtimes, the remote being carelessly left on the shelf underneath it.

"'Watch the news and keep updated'" Flora recited the Professor's words, reaching up to the remote.

Luke turned around in interest, and quickly caught on as to what Flora was going to do. He made his way to stand next to her and watched Flora press the bright red 'ON' button toward the direction of the television. Luke waited patiently as Flora flipped again and again through an endless journey of flickering screens and failed channels.

Soon, however, something was fed through. The only channel available to the television: the news. Both Luke and Flora watched the moving images on screen with face of intense concentration which slowly morphed into stares of horror at certain scenes they wished they'd never seen.

"'Watch the news…and keep updated…'" Luke repeated breathlessly, almost at a loss for words as the two came to the realisation that their problem of survival and 'creatures' was much, much larger than they had ever expected...

…

"What even is this?" A flaxen-haired woman wondered as she peered out through the glass of the window, her voice laced in nervousness.

"I've just called my family," The younger brunette next to her mentioned, phone in hand. "They're not picking up."

"Damn it…" Karen, the blond, muttered through gritted teeth. "I can't believe that something like this is happening. What the hell are we supposed to tell the viewers? 'Oh, by the way, a massive epidemic has begun and you're all going to die, sorry'?"

Amalie sniffed the air and straightened her neat ponytail, absorbing fully the happenings taking place outside. While their headquarters were situated on the top floor of a skyscraper, the thick black fumes were still visible outside. What was even happening in the first place, anyway? Everyone claimed it was an epidemic, but looking out and witnessing this all over the globe, Amalie could work out herself that this crisis was more than an epidemic; a pandemic, if she had to resort to such terms.

"Don't you realise? It's the zombie apocalypse," Frank called out from his desk, reclining and chewing on presumably a piece of gum. "This is the end of the world as we know it."

"And we're supposed to believe that _zombies _are real, are we?" Karen scoffed and rolled her emerald eyes.

She opened the window a crack and rummaged in her pocket for a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. After accomplishing her goal, she slipped the cigarette between two fingers and set the end on fire with a burning flame, inhaled the end and finally breathed out the contents into the air outside. Amalie tilted her head.

"Are you really going to smoke _now?_"

"Damn right I am," Karen answered bluntly. "If this is the last cigarette I'm ever going to have then I'm going to have it now."

Amalie watched the smoke waft from the end of the fag and resisted the urge to step backward and out of its way. She was a young woman, had only just been promoted to a news reporter a few weeks ago. Amalie had never smoked herself and tended to even avoid the alcohol at the occasional parties everyone from the office decided to throw.

"The dead are coming back to life and infecting and/or eating the others, doesn't that sound like a zombie epidemic to you?" Frank retorted, spitting out his gum into the bin beside him.

"…It's more of a pandemic though…" Amalie piped up quietly.

Karen sighed in exasperation. "Try announcing that on live television then, you two. Say to the people of the world that there is a pandemic outbreak possibly worse than the Black Death and zombies are also coming to eat them all, and then watch the crimes and panic rise to extreme lengths before you can even finish saying 'Robin Hood'."

Amalie listened carefully and realised that Karen was right about presenting these certain facts on the news. They all had to be wary of their words. If they panicked or revealed too much about the matter, then the public would surely go insane and society would collapse. The fear could easily lead to chaos. And once chaos was achieved, the state of the country was soon already doomed. The whole crew was perfectly aware of this as they avoided it in practise every time they delivered drastic news, but they had never expected to encounter the end of the world anytime soon.

Frank held his hands up beside his head. "I never said anything about including it in a report. Of course, it's inevitable that everyone would react like that. Then again, now that the whole world's gone to hell what would be the point of maintaining social order in the first place?"

Karen had no words as she took another breath of her cigarette. Amalie pondered over what it would be like reporting out there, putting your life on the line for the sake of letting others know the situation. It was a good thing that the head usually saved her for last seeing as she was the most recent addition to the team in that way. It was a hectic job, especially when out at the scene itself.

A sudden thumping outside indicated that there were visitors already to the room. Karen quickly tapped her cigarette out and threw it onto the ash tray while Frank regained his composure and resumed on with his work. Amalie looked ahead in curiosity. Who would it be this time?

The door sprung open, revealing the visitor as the director of the news channel. He surveyed the surroundings before his eyes finally settled onto Amalie, just as she realised she was the only field reporter in the room.

"We just lost Cathy," The director declared, earning a few disappointed stares his way as he nodded his head towards the brunette standing by the window. "Amalie, we need you on the field."

…

Amalie stepped out of the helicopter and onto a field where countless ambulances parked, police officers roamed and the scent of blood hung stoically in the air. Amalie winced at both sight and smell. She gathered her microphone and tapped her earpiece on as soon as she had made her way to the spot the officials had told her to stand as the camera crew set up equipment before her. She closed her eyes. This was the first time she had properly ever done something like this, and her anxiety had overwhelmed every sense. She wasn't safe out here, and more than that, she was forced to give out limited information about what was really happening against her will.

The young woman anticipated the moment where everything would be placed on the spot. She felt tingles of apprehensiveness in her spine and legs, and she struggled to swallow her fear. _The zombie apocalypse. Happening here and now, and she was in the middle of it all expected to report for the safety of the country._

"And we're live in four, three, two…" The countdown began from the cameraman as Amalie immediately straightened her posture, eradicating all signs of panic from her face and body.

She stared straight ahead at the small screen rolling with white text, ready to read out loud. Amalie drew a deep breath.

"_If you have just tuned in to BBC News, then again we would fully advise you to stay in your homes as it is a very dangerous place to be outside as of now. We are live on the grounds of Oakley Park. The government have not yet identified the unprecedented phenomenon that has fallen upon England, and so before the clarification it is recommended to stay safe at either your home or a shelter if home is inaccessible. The casualties are estimated to total over two-thousand. Officials have already requested the aid of America and China, and are yet to get into contact with Japan. Please try to stay out of direct contact with ill persons and stay with your families. Hospitals are an area to be currently avoided unless absolutely necessary, the same with generally crowded public locations. If there is—"_

A low groaning suddenly sounded behind her. Amalie froze as still as stone, her words already lost. She had barely turned around to investigate before a person had fiercely grabbed her face and spun her around. She couldn't even react in time. No, this wasn't a _person_, it was-

Policemen fired at the creature that had previously been declared dead while Amalie struggled free of the animalistic grasp. She choked on her own breath.

"Citizens of the United Kingdom, we assure you," She gasped. If she was going to die on her job, then she would at least be determined enough to finish it right. "There is nothing to panic about here; the police have only opened fire on these ill people because they are stated as dangerous! Do _NOT _approach them, at all costs! Do _NOT _approach them at all—"

It wasn't long before an eruption of blood splattered across the field as various policemen suffered attacks from the zombies gnawing on their flesh, unable to fight back. They were coming for all of them. There were too many to fight. Amalie felt her heart sink into her stomach as the zombies stumbled towards her from all directions. She gave one last look of fear at the camera before she was completely encircled by a ring of the undead.

A dying woman's shriek echoed through the autumn sky.

The camera violently fell to the floor. The last thing it captured was a bloody object landing just in front that appeared reminiscent to a head full of brunette hair tied in a once-neat ponytail…

The screen jumped to static.

A silence.

"Erm," The male news reporter sitting next to Karen coughed and stacked his papers. "There seems to be a technical difficulty. We apologise for the fault and will resolve the problem as soon as possible."

The woman beside him was quiet. It was not even an hour until she was speaking to Amalie, alive and well. And now she was…Karen couldn't even finish her train of thought. This world was really going to hell, wasn't it?

Karen narrowed her eyes and gazed into the camera, still shocked by the occurrence. She cleared her throat in an attempt to rid of the nervous lump that had formed. "We regret to inform you that we just lost our last field reporter, Amalie Watkins. From now on, all news regarding this pandemic will be delivered in the studio."

"What are you doing?!" Frank hissed at her from behind the scenes. "You're not supposed to tell them _any of that!"_

Karen merely held her head high and lowered her eyes in mourning, ignoring the fact that she was still on live television. "They deserve to know this much, Frank. Amalie lost her life for a reason, and this was it: to let members of the public know what is _really_ going on here."

…

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Emmy demanded, lowering the remote onto one of the plastic tables after the television had been abruptly switched off. She plopped herself on a seat and relaxed into it, resting her heavy head on the back of her hand. "'Letting the members of the public know what is really going on here'?"

"I imagine that they were referring to the lack of information given out in an attempt to calm the social order…" Clive mused, stroking a hand over his mouth in thought. "That would make sense, anyway."

"And how would you know that much?"

Clive spared a small, wistful smile in memory. "I was a reporter once. You learn things on the job. Keeping society maintained in a crisis as large as this one would be top priority for all news stations if my assumptions are correct."

Emmy nodded in understanding, remembering her theory of Clive knowing her in the first place through his old job. She still hadn't questioned him about that, anyway. Admittedly, Emmy was still getting over the fact that she was in the same room as one of England's most dangerous criminals and she was hardly even breaking a sweat in his presence; in fact she felt slightly safer with him then she was outside. Then again, that could be justified considering anyone alone in a zombie apocalypse would be completely vulnerable anyway. But still, Emmy couldn't help but feel unsure about herself. This man, one year ago, launched a devastating attack on London and massacred hundreds if not thousands of people and yet Emmy was actually sharing a civilised conversation with him? All of this happening in one day, the zombie apocalypse, Chase, Clive… it was almost incomprehensible.

"So tell me again, Miss Altava, why you asked me of all people to tell you where Professor Layton lives?" Clive broke the silence with the most obvious question.

"I'm not really sure, myself. You were the closest option without having to work my way through the chaotic streets of London, so I thought 'why not?'" Emmy replied, taking a sip of the water Clive had retrieved for her.

Said man diverted his gaze to the floor. "So you trust _me? _Miss Altava, do I have to remind you that I'm a criminal? I should be one of the last people you trust."

Emmy shrugged her shoulders once and sighed. She decided to change the subject. "So if I may ask the question I came here for, where _does _the Professor live?"

Clive his returned his line of sight to her, his expression was difficult to read but a glint of curiosity had flitted across his eyes. He had no idea why he was so calm through this apocalypse in the first place, probably it was since he had given up hope on this country and the people in it ever since the incidents of last year. But still, hope or not, he couldn't keep from being surprised at the sudden phenomenon taking place outside. How did it even start, anyway?

But even so… Clive believed one year in prison, though not enough for him, had already changed his outlook on life. He had never stopped being civilised and he had never stopped demonstrating his gentleman side of his personality. The months of practising to be Future Luke had finally caught up to him, permanently this time. He had mocked fellow jailers in the past, but he had learned from his mistakes and distanced himself with rather polite intentions. Even some guards had been surprised at his aloof behaviour.

"You are aware of the fact that I could just tell you anything and lie, correct?"

Emmy bit her lip and nodded slowly while pouting, apparently bothered. "Yes, yes, I know _that" _She paused. Trusting Clive was still an issue for her. She didn't want to, yet she had to if she wanted at least one lead on the Professor. And plus… Clive already seemed like the type of man Emmy usually liked, anyway. He _did _save her life, after all… "But then again, couldn't anyone? It doesn't matter what was done in the past. We're living in a new world now if you hadn't noticed, so whether you're a criminal or not, you should be trusted the same as everyone else."

Clive was silent. Emmy sat upright and gestured to the glass of water on the table for her, raising both eyebrows as she displayed the object. "See? If I didn't trust you in the slightest then I wouldn't be drinking this water. Think about that for a while."

The man accepted Emmy's sentiment and rolled his head to the side. "…Fine. It has been a while since I…saw him, and so it is rather uncomfortable talking about it, but… the Professor lives…" He stopped.

"The Professor lives…?" Emmy pressed on.

"No, it's nothing, but… did you say that you wanted to go there and find him or something?" Clive inquired, leading Emmy's eye to twinge in frustration as the convict had diverted the question again.

She really had to patient with this guy, didn't she? He really had too many trust issues…

"Yes."

"Then…" Clive replied, choosing his words carefully as if he were calculating a plan. "…If you sincerely want to meet him, then I would recommend thinking about where _he _would be first."

Emmy narrowed her eyes in suspicion and interest. "What do you mean by that?"

"What I mean is, if you were in Professor Layton's position and both his adoptive daughter and apprentice were attending school today on the impact, assuming they're still trapped there, would the Professor you know just sit and watch or go after them?"

Emmy finally caught on. "Oh! So you're saying we should go to the school if we wanted to find him? That makes an awful lot of sense, I suppose…"

Clive nodded in agreement. So this woman really did want to go find the Professor, huh? Clive had previously met her years ago in an interview, but he didn't pick up her name. Even now, he cursed himself for forgetting. Judging by how casual she acted around him, Clive assumed Emmy had figured out that she had seen him before and vice versa.

Clive knew that Emmy had left the Professor a long time ago. So, why had she come back for him _now_?

"Thank you for all of your help, Clive," Emmy grinned, placing the glass back down and gathering her things. "I really appreciate how you saved my life today. I'm sorry if I was a bit hostile towards you in the beginning."

The man blinked a few times, unsure of what he had just heard. Was that…something pleasant spoken about him? He had even forgotten what niceties felt like, simply because he didn't deserve anyone's kindness. He hadn't heard anyone in the past speak about him in a positive light. Ah, he had done a terrible wrong, so the hatred he received was completely justified. But…

"U-uh, no problem. It was my pleasure," Clive had to stumble on his words slightly, still in shock. "Thank you for providing me with company today. It was, um, lovely to meet you…"

Emmy's grin advanced wider. What was this guy doing in jail when he had a personality like this? Just moments ago, Emmy had been afraid of him, judgemental as his crime was too evil for words. And yet, when she finally met him due to the apocalypse, he saved her life and genuinely helped her. He was just like Chase, only he had earned his rightful place here… but even so, what was his reason in the first place? Clive seemed almost too sweet and refined to commit mass murder such as that. What happened, and why had the Professor been involved so?

"Well Clive, should we get going?" Emmy asked, re-fitting her camera into her belt and straightening her ponytail.

"W-_we_?!" Clive spluttered.

"Yes, 'we'. I can't just leave you here, right?"

"But you're not supposed to help me survive! You're supposed to hate and resent me for what I…!" Before Clive could even finish his angst-filled sentence, Emmy grabbed him by the thin, weak arm and stood him up.

"There's no time for any of that, now. We both have ties to the Professor, and here is our chance to be reunited. And plus, you still haven't explained to me where the school even is, first!" She laughed, pulling the startled Clive along as he fumbled for his weapons in a shaken preparation to leave.

It was starting to begin. A little more than a while ago, Emmy would never have trusted anyone from or even stepped foot in a prison as ominous as this. She had already felt herself change. Glancing at him, she was fairly sure Clive was experiencing the same thing. This apocalypse had already started to change them, whether or not one was a female former-assistant or a convict that had tried to destroy London. This was it.

"So does this mean you…trust me?" Clive questioned in disbelief, standing on his guard as the two of them exited the doors of the canteen.

Emmy winked and felt the corner of her lips pull up in a determined smile. "Maybe. Now, let's go. We're getting out of here, and we're going to survive."


End file.
